


...Ghostrider?

by SquishySterek (Herm_own_ninny)



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Hale Fire, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Death, Deaton is a Traitor, F/M, Homophobic Language, M/M, Tragedy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-18
Updated: 2018-11-18
Packaged: 2019-08-24 23:12:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,269
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16649653
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Herm_own_ninny/pseuds/SquishySterek
Summary: My piece for Therapeutic-Steter's giveaway!Hope y'all enjoy.





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> My piece for Therapeutic-Steter's giveaway!  
> Hope y'all enjoy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Parts 1&2 here for y'all.  
> I apologise for the rest being late. It will be up before this Thursday.  
> I hope the first bit isn't too disappointing. (:

Stiles had been on the way back to Beacon Hills when he felt something… wrong. Deaton's bond seemed to be wavering and there was a sickening feeling to the rest. All he could do was press down on the gas pedal as he exited the freeway, his knuckles white as he gripped the steering wheel and felt Athiea's bond snap in two and… disappear? More followed soon after and his anxiety mounted as he blew through a red light, too focused on the issue at hand to pay attention to the Chevy that nearly hit him.  
Right now, all Stiles could feel were the bonds snapping away as he drove towards the billowing cloud of smoke. He pressed his foot down harder on the gas, ignoring his phone ringing. It was his dad, no doubt telling him to stay away. He could hear police sirens in the distance behind him, his pounding heart almost serving to drown it out.  
Derek was still there, Laura was there, Peter was there. Cora seemed to be wavering, he could feel Talia's snap into nothing and only stepped harder on the gas as the alpha power was transferred to Erin, her husband. It wasn't there long before his own bond started wavering and Stiles could only scream in anger as he urged Roscoe forward, tears starting to roll down his face now. He didn't pay much attention to Deaton's bond snapping away with a different feeling, just clenched his jaw and drove through a stream, his eyes starting to grow with his anger. Why weren't they able to get out?  
He felt the heat, the pain, the burning. He could feel the sense of entrapment from every member of his pack still within the house. Stiles felt the flames licking at every place in his body, a pain he couldn't quell because it was not his body being attacked.  
He swerved out of the way of a tree, pounding his fist against the steering wheel as he yelled in frustration and pushed Roscoe faster yet. The old Jeep was starting to shake with the force that Stiles was pushing him, uncaring of the damage he was wreaking on the engine. His mom could get onto him later for the vehicle; his pack was dying now…

 

“I fucking _know_ you are not accusing me of that,” Peter growled, rounding on Maria, his golden eyes bright.  
“I meant what I said. You have feelings for that Stiles kid and you've been mopey ever since he started his college classes and has been over an hour drive away.”  
“Do you really believe that? Honestly? Have I not proven myself to you?” Peter couldn't help the hurt surfacing in his voice as he turned away from his fiance.  
“The only thing you've proven is that you have stronger feelings for him,” She muttered.  
“At least you're fucking honest with your feelings now, of all time,” Peter muttered bitterly before slamming their bedroom door behind him and walking towards the front door.  
“I’m glad you're pissy about my honesty, but at least I'm not an unfaithful, cock sucking faggot!” Maria yelled through the closed door. Peter squared his shoulders and was about to turn around when two different hands grabbed either of his elbows and pulled him out of the house.  
“Don't say anything. We're just going to go for a run. Come on,” Derek murmured, leading him away from the house.  
“You can explain it later,” Laura reassured Peter, cutting him off as he opened his mouth. “We're just going for a run.”

 

“Stiles - Stiles, get back!” The Sheriff's voice should have been loud, but Stiles couldn't give it enough thought as he sat in front of the house. He didn't even flinch as a beam gave way and the second floor collapsed down into the first, Lily’s scream cut off as her bond snapped into nothing. Ash flooded his senses, his breathing burning now; but he had no want to move. His pack was dying and he couldn’t bring himself to care about anything that may happen to him.  
A strong hand grabbed Stiles’ shoulder and yanked him backwards, lifting him to his feet. “Stiles? You’re okay?”  
“Peter?”  
“Yes, I’m here. Derek and Laura are, too. We weren’t at the house when it started. You need to get back.”  
Stiles nodded numbly, letting Peter lead him towards the two remaining pack members as firefighters started desperately attempting to put out the flames. Derek pulled him into a hug, the two of them clinging to the other, hiding their faces and wishing they could block out the noise.  
Derek visibly flinched when Stiles let out another broken noise as Clara's bond snapped. Laura set a hand on his shoulder and squeezed, moving so her body was pressed to his.  
“It hurts. Every single one. Every time they die I can feel it. Why?”  
“You're our Emissary,” Peter explained with a sad smile, shifting a bit closer to the huddle of young people. There was something else he wasn't saying, and Stiles was going to ask, but just then another part of the house collapsed. Stiles' legs gave out as Erin's bond snapped to nothing. Derek was holding him tight, and Stiles nearly missed Peter's eyes flashing bright red before he turned around and threw up. Werewolves never threw up. Something else, of course - _of course_ was wrong, now.  
Stiles managed to gather himself enough to, on shaky legs, make his way over to Peter and rub his lower back. The wolf grabbed Stiles’ shirt, fisting the fabric as he gave one final heave.  
“There is wolfsbane. That's why they can't get out.”  
Stiles wasn't sure he'd heard Peter right, but his entire body went tense as the new alpha stood up, his jaw set and his eyes flickering back and forth.  
“W-What?”

 

Now Peter was angry. He was sure this was planned.  
With every alpha's passing came a flash of what immediately caused their death. Peter's senses had been flooded with wolfsbane, every part of his being burning in excruciating pain before finally forcing him to empty his stomach. He hadn't thrown up… ever. The feeling was foreign and it only served to cause him to heave longer, his eyes tearing up at the stench and burn of the wolfsbane that was still lingering.  
Stiles’ touch had been helpful, grounding him so he could finally right himself and stand upwards. He let go of the young man's shirt, willing his eyes to stop flickering back and forth at the anger wracking through his body.  
“There is wolfsbane. That's why they can't get out.”  
The look on Stiles’ face only deepened the empty feeling in Peter's gut as those soft eyes looked up at him in horror and disbelief.  
“W-What?”  
“Wolfsbane. I know Deaton educated you on the Alpha Spark Transfer. There was- there _is_ wolfsbane.”  
Stiles turned around to stare at the house, Derek and Laura mirroring him. “That's why I couldn't make it onto the porch,” Stiles whispered, his hands curling into fists at his side.  
“Where are the Argents?”  
“Nowhere important, right now. You four have to come back for questioning since you blatantly ignored my telling you to stay back,” The Sheriff sounded tired and defeated as he looked at the four of them. When he met Stiles’ eyes Peter could see the way the man's resolve broke at the sight of his son's suffering.  
“You feel it, don't you?”  
The fight seemed to leave Stiles immediately, nodding as he let his dad pull him into a tight hug. Peter knew he was trying to hide it, but soon his shoulders started shaking as he leaned against John, quiet sobs muffled against his shoulder.  
Peter glanced at Derek and Laura, offering an arm to his remaining niece and nephew. Derek easily threw himself into Peter's arms, fingers digging into his back to root them to the spot. Laura seemed to be in a daze as she wrapped her arms around Derek and Peter, setting her head against his shoulder and silently letting her tears fall.  
John finally met Peter's eyes, the sheriff's own starting to water. Peter nodded and swallowed thickly, tightening his arms around Derek and Laura.  
“I'll fix this, you two. I promise.”


	2. Chapter 2

Finally the fire was out. The EMTs had arrived half an hour prior, one of the ambulances damaged along the side, paint scraped off and the metal dented it. Stiles was in the middle of guessing what they hit when a firefighter yelled for an EMT. They'd found someone.  
“Cora!” Derek yelled, turning to run towards her body. Stiles grabbed him and held him back, Peter setting an arm on Laura's shoulder to keep her from interfering.  
“You have to stay back, Derek. Amy's on call and she'll be able to help her properly. It's okay,” Stiles murmured, holding the teenager back as he kept struggling.  
“I need to see her.”  
Stiles could feel his heart breaking at the desperate plea in Derek's voice as he watched the responders set her limp, charred body on a stretcher. They lifted her into the ambulance and sped off quickly, Derek finally giving up his struggle and leaning into Stiles. “Who's… who's left?”  
Stiles swallowed thickly and tightened his grip on Derek. “Cora is barely there. I'm not sure, but… I think Emily is still okay. I can't tell. She's about the same as Cora.”  
“What about mom and dad?”  
Stiles knew Derek saw Peter's eyes flash red. He couldn't blame him for asking about his parents still, clinging to some desperate sliver of hope. Stiles was going to be the one to destroy it.  
“They're dead.”

Peter had known, but he didn't want to hear the words out loud. He turned away from Stiles where he held a completely broken Derek as he tried not to shudder visibly at the tremble that ran down his spine. Someone had taken out almost their entire pack in under 30 minutes.  
Someone had killed his sister, his brother, his family, his pack, his- “What about-?”  
“Maria was one of the first to go,” Stiles cut him off, glancing over at him. “That's what really scared me. That the humans were dying. Pretty sure I killed Roscoe on the way over. Mom's going to-”  
Something seemed to click in Stiles’ eyes before he turned to face the wreckage. “She was in there, wasn't she?” He whispered, his eyes tearing up as his expression went stone cold. “I can't feel her. She was there, wasn't she?”  
“She was probably going to see Maria. We fought…” Peter trailed off, his gut twisting into nine kinds of knots. He'd killed Stiles’ mom.  
“Don't you dare think what I know you're thinking. I thought it, too, but-” Stiles’ voice cracked and he shook his head, clearing his throat. “She was coming over anyways.”  
“It's not your fault, either,” Peter heard Derek mumble, reaching for Stiles’ hand and twining their fingers. He straightened up and stared at the emissary, narrowing his eyes as the veins on his arms turned black. “Why are you in pain? What happened?”  
“I'm pretty sure I bruised a couple of my ribs driving up here. I didn't exactly use the road. And I punched my steering wheel a couple of times because I couldn't go fast enough. It's alright.”  
Derek scoffed, keping a firm grip on Stiles’ arm before turning around and waving over one of the EMT's.

 

Stiles looked over at his dad from his hospital bed, trying not to tear up at how broken he looked in the moment. “They ID'd her body?”  
Stiles knew, he knew with the absence of her bond to the pack that his mom was gone. But he still needed to ask.  
John simply nodded, opening his clasped hand to show her favorite necklace. Stiles had enchanted it as a child and gifted it to her as his first magical act and since then she'd never taken it off. It was nothing special or extravagant, a simple charm that helped ease the pain of her chronic migraines.  
Stiles turned away and tried to stifle a sob as the emotions resurfaced. He had no one to hide them from. His dad had been crying the last couple of hours. It was his turn to process.  
He'd lost his mother, and his honorary mother and alpha. Talia had been the fifth one to die. Stiles had struggled not to scream and pull over when he felt her bond shatter.  
“Do you want me to come back later?” Peter's quiet voice interrupted Stiles’ thoughts and he quickly rubbed his face dry of his tears, trying to take a steadying breath.  
“It's good. Dad needs to shower and get to the station,” Stiles murmured. John nodded and stood, pulling Stiles in for a tight hug.  
“They're probably only calling me in to officially give me leave. I shouldn't be gone long,” He sighed, squeezing Stiles’ shoulder. “Don't check out before they let you or I'll handcuff you to the bed.”  
“I'll just magick my way out of them.”  
“Then I'll use your mom's enchanted ones she made-” John stopped halfway through the sentence, tightening his jaw and dropping his hand from Stiles’ side.  
“I'll make sure to stay, dad,” He finally mumbled after a few heavy seconds. John nodded stiffly and left with a polite, weak smile in Peter's general direction.  
“So, your ribs are _only_ bruised? What kind of text do you think that is?” Peter asked conversationally, sitting on the edge of Stiles’ bed and perking his brow at him.


End file.
